


The Boggart

by bubblebucky



Series: The Various Adventures of Calla Lily Potter [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblebucky/pseuds/bubblebucky
Summary: In her third year at Hogwarts, Calla Lily Potter faced the boggart in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It didn't go as planned.
Series: The Various Adventures of Calla Lily Potter [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683460
Kudos: 23





	The Boggart

Calla stepped up to the front of the classroom with dread pooling in her stomach, thick and acidic.

What could her greatest fear be? Voldemort? Hardly. He didn’t even have a body. The basilisk? She could do the same thing Millicent had with her snake, she supposed. But how much of the creature is replicated when it came to things like this? Would it still be able to kill with a look? Would it be as huge as she remembered? Would it—

But then the boggart turned its attention onto her, and it turned out she needn't have worried about that at all, because the boggart did not turn into the basilisk.

It turned into her Uncle Vernon.

Maybe it was the shock of it, but at once, Calla's stomach dropped. She quelled the instinctual urge to take a step back, knowing that doing so would only make him more angry.

But, no, wait. This wasn't her actual Uncle Vernon, even if it looked so much like him, with the ruddy cheeks and bristling mustache, the belt looped around his right hand—this was a boggart. All she needed to do was laugh, right?

But that was so hard to do when her chest was suddenly so tight, and Uncle Vernon was moving forward with that mad look in his eye—

Professor Lupin stepped in front of her, and the boggart turned into a pale orb that, when he said the incantation that Calla had completely forgotten about moments before, popped and sped around the room like a deflating balloon.

Calla could relate. She felt like her mask had been ripped away, and she looked just as much the vulnerable, terrified child she’d been all along—small. She felt small.

"Alright," Professor Lupin said. The room was very quiet, so much so that his generally mild voice seemed loud in it. "Alright. Er, next up. Calla, come here."

He was motioning her off to the side, away from the boggart so that the next student could take their turn, but the look on his face was so—it was serious, and she knew he was going to ask her about Vernon, to demand answers, and the room was so quiet and everyone was looking at her, and—and—

Without saying a word, Calla turned and fled from the room. She heard her name called by several voices, but she didn't pause; she ran down the halls as fast as she could, heart pounding, robes whipping behind her.

Her legs took her around the back of the castle where the grass was tall and unruly, and there she collapsed to the ground, pulling her legs to her chest and fisting her hands in her hair, pulling, trying to distract herself from the awful sucking thing in her chest that kept repeating _coward, coward, coward._

She didn't have much of a grasp on time passing as she sat there trembling. Maybe minutes had passed, maybe hours. Maybe she’d been sitting there for days, trembling and numb—but after what seemed like not too long, she made out the dark figure of Snuffles skirting across the grounds not too far away.

The sight of him made that thing in her chest suddenly desperate, like it was being pulled into the depths of a whirlpool, and she called out in a hoarse voice, "Snuffles!"

Snuffles' head turned to her at once, and then he was making a beeline towards her, tail wagging, and each step he took nearer loosened the tight feeling in her chest. When he drew closer, though, his tail slowed, and he nudged her shoulder gently with his nose when he finally made it over. It was as if he could tell she was upset, as if he cared.

And that was all it took for her to break down.

She threw her arms around Snuffles' neck, twisting her fingers in his fur and burying her face against his chest. Quietly at first, but then more loudly, Calla began to cry, great, ripping sobs that shook her whole frame and even had Snuffles whining in concern.

"I'm s-so stupid." Her words came out sharp and wet, frustrated. "I hate this. I hate this."

Snuffles whined again, nosing at the back of her head. Calla just continued to sob.

She didn’t want to be like this. She didn’t want to be the fucked up girl who could face down a basilisk but run at the sight of her uncle. What did he ever do to her, anyway? Hit her? Call her names? It wasn’t like the dangers she’d faced in the last few years at Hogwarts.

And yet, every time she saw her Uncle Vernon’s face, she was filled with the rich, staggering fear of a child, like she was three years old and he was pulling her by the ear to shove her in the closet for the first time, like she was screaming and crying and throwing herself against the door, the dark so thick and consuming; like she was five and he was pulling off his belt, and there were the charred remains of breakfast on the stove, and she was apologizing, apologizing, but he swung his belt anyway; like she was eight and pulling against his grasp as Harry sobbed, tied in place, and Aunt Petunia hacked at his hair, nicking an ear and sending blood sliding down to stain the collar of his shirt.

She was so scared, even now. Even all this distance away from him. Even knowing that she could turn him into a toad if she needed to. Even after everything else. And that—how did that not mean she would be scared of him forever?

The thought was agonizing, but she could only cry for so long. Eventually, she ran out of tears. She was left sniffling against Snuffles, his fur wet where her face was pressed, his head tucked over her shoulder like he was holding her close.

He was a strange dog.

Sighing, she drew back and wiped her face on her robes. Snuffles was watching her with intense grey eyes, the little beginnings of whines ripping from his throat every now and then.

"Sorry for crying on you." Calla reached up to stroke his face. "I'm just—I'm just being dramatic. Like always."

Snuffles let out a huff and pushed his nose against her cheek. She pet him again.

"I'm just so tired of this, you know?” she said, and maybe was going to continue talking to a dog like some sort of idiot when Snuffles suddenly stiffened, ears twitching, and then shot to his feet, causing Calla to reel backwards a bit.

Without any more warning, Snuffles let out a soft yip, licked her face, and then ran off, disappearing around the corner. She was wondering why he left to suddenly when Professor Lupin stepped around the opposite wall.

Ah. Maybe Snuffles wasn't as friendly with everyone as he was with her. Or maybe had a grudge against Professor Lupin specifically.

Calla watched as Professor Lupin walked closer. She ought to have been feeling dread of some sort in anticipation of his reaction both to her boggart and her abrupt—and against-the-rules—departure from his class. But she didn't. All she really felt at that point was exhausted.

"Hello, Calla. I've been looking for you."

"Hello, Professor," she replied.

Professor Lupin drew to a stop in front of her. His mouth was in a gentle frown, little lines of tension where his brows were drawn together, when his green eyes scanned over her, undoubtedly taking note of her blotchy, tear-stained face.

"Comfortable down there?" he asked.

Calla shrugged, but complied with his unspoken request and pushed herself to her feet. "I just needed some air. I'm sorry, sir."

"No, I'm—" he stopped, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. I'm not angry. I just wanted to check if you were alright."

"I'm fine," Calla said, which was mostly true. She felt… well, not better, but less fragile after her crying session.

Professor Lupin remained quiet a moment, clearing trying to figure out how he was going to phrase the question she knew was coming. "Calla—"

"It was my uncle," she said, wanting to beat him to it, wanting to have some small amount of control about how she spills this secret. "He—He isn't so bad, really. I didn't realize I was even that scared of him."

"Does he hurt you?"

Calla gave him a sort of half smile, feeling so, so tired. "He's a firm believer in discipline."

At that, Professor Lupin's mouth tightened, his face going dark. "That's unacceptable. You and Harry are—that he would _dare_ —"

The last word came out almost a growl, something that clearly startled Professor Lupin as much as it did Calla. His anger disappeared as he blinked and cleared his throat, and for an awkward few seconds they simply stood there looking at one another.

Then, "Dinner is beginning soon. I can—you should go. Harry and your friends are worried."

"Er, yes, Professor," Calla said. She hesitated a moment, still watching him, but then began to walk back around the castle, leaving Professor Lupin standing alone.


End file.
